Millie

When you bring a dog home, you begin to form a picture of that pup's personality. You make predictions about how your life will unfold now with the new member of the household. You recognize the splendid characteristics that made you take this animal in to begin with. You are convinced that you've got this one under control. It will work out beautifully!

I re-read the Ocean pages of the days following the arrival of Henry. No barking, no aggression to anyone. Shy, to be sure, but everything else was just an example of typical canine conduct. We would work on it! I enrolled him in two training classes -- he was a champ! And then slowly, things changed. The elevator, the noises out in the hallway, the people on the street. He couldn't manage them. I realized this in January and quickly moved. And still he grew worse.

When Sadey came to live with me in mid February, I saw her as she was described in the Texas shelter materials: total sweetness. I saw nothing else but the strong affection she bestowed instantly on me, wanting nothing more than to be near at all times. My first surprise came weeks later when I took her to the vet and she lunged at the technician who then asked me to please restrain this ferocious dog. I shrugged it off. Dont all dogs hate visits to the vet? 

The idea of total sweetness was so ingrained in my head that to this day, I still see her as such, licking, jumping on the couch with me the minute I sit down, wagging, smiling. I called it smiling, though later on I learned that a dog that pants for no obvious reason is a dog in distress. 

Sadey began to bark at people on our walks early on, but again, barking is a dog thing. So what, I said to myself. Maybe she wants to make friends with everyone? 

It wasn't until that fateful visit to the dog park after the blizzard, when, given freedom, she chose to chase down people, not all, just some, and bark fiercely at them up close. And finally -- way too close. With a nip at a guy's leg that left me shattered. And then suddenly it was so obvious: sweetness at home, holy terror out in the real world of real people. Well, perhaps not totally a terror. Yet. But, there it was, barking fiercely at dog owners who came to pick up their pets at daycare -- this is where Henry lost it completely and now here's Sadey, getting too close, threatening others so that the daycare people had to ask owners to wait outside until she was safely out of the way and in the car. 

 

I'm thinking about all this today -- the day when Millie joins me here at Sally's House. Do I have now a new apprehension when I bring her home? 

Here's my simple answer: I do not. Adopting a dog is an act of hope. It comes with the belief in friendship, in love. In hard work that brings rewards. I am 100% hopeful, no less so than I was on October 19th, when Henry came to live with me, or on February 13th, when Sadey joined us.

 

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I went to bed so late! I was immersed in dog literature and suddenly it was no longer Friday but Saturday and there I was, still poring over stuff out there, on dogs, puppies, you name it. And in the morning, I am up at my usual time, reminding myself to do the last minute details in preparation for the arrival of my new pup. Roll up the carpet in the play area. Put up a gate by the stairs. And eat breakfast.

 

Let me say just a few words about Millie (a name chosen not by me): I found her online of course. There is always a risk in getting a dog in this way, but enough of the safeguard boxes are checked, so that I feel fairly confident that I'm not being duped into some shady operation. 

She is a mix of course, but her genetics are well known -- golden retriever, poodle. I picked her because she was still looking for a home at age 4 months. Most pups get adopted at 8 weeks and here she is, still without an owner at nearly 20 weeks. (She is 4.5 months today. She's not a runt -- though I would have taken a runt! --it's just that she wasn't posted online until the day I happen to be searching.) Something about the dogs that need a home that pulls at me. I feel that she is old enough to have made great progress on potty training and chewing everything in sight, but young enough that I can really attend to her socialization needs.

Millie comes from Milwaukee, but they are bringing her to Madison today so I dont have to travel far to get her. Just before noon, I set out to pick her up.

(car ride home)

 

 

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There are 360 recognized breeds of dogs out there, according to the AKC. Mix up these guys and you have millions of permutations. With that you have temperaments that run the gamut. I took Millie from the arms of her dad's owner and right away I knew that she was her own dog. Not a whole lot in common with my two big ones. For one thing, she must weigh about 9 pounds (4 kg). She'll double that weight eventually, but right now, she feels so... tiny!

She settled in to rest in the crate on the ride home. I carried her up to the house, then outside right away, then back to the house. She jumped up on the couch, wagged her tail, and slept some more. I'd been prepared for frantic puppy play. Instead I got a small dog who responded to stress by sleeping.

 

Playing a little...

Then napping again. 

She is an entirely different kettle of fish. Whereas Henry loved every treat I ever gave him and Sadey snatched them out of my hand before I was ready for her, Millie eventually took one treat, one treat, played with it some and only then slowly ate it. I'd gone through bags of treats quickly. The supply I have for Millie? It will last years. (I do realize that a food motivated dog is easier to train, so we will see how that goes. Way too early to tell.)

 

 

The conventional wisdom about dogs of Millie's type is that these pups love it when you laugh. They'll do a lot to get you there. And so often, they succeed! I can see that side of Millie even on her first day with me. The girl who loves a good laugh! My laugh.

 

Ed comes over in the evening. She assesses the situation... and deems him to be safe.

We eat supper, I take her out a lot, she has one accident, but no more than that. Walking her is... funny. We go out, I put her down, she does her stuff and is ready to call it a day. True, it's windy out there and it has to feel like a gust could lift her off her paws. Still, she is not in need of a good run, that's for sure. No two dogs are alike!

Ed and I rework mistakes in my tax forms, Millie snoozes. Such a calm evening! For all of us.

with so much love...